


Field

by L122ytorch



Category: Smallville
Genre: First Kiss, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-27
Updated: 2017-08-28
Packaged: 2018-12-20 17:45:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11925999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/L122ytorch/pseuds/L122ytorch
Summary: What if when the jocks strung up Clark in that field he had been stripped of his powers first? AU in which Lex finds a freezing, bleeding Clark hung out to dry in the middle of the corn field. S1





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> AU Clark has been stripped of his powers prior to being beaten/harassed by the jocks and left in the corn field in his boxers.

He couldn't feel his arms anymore, they were numb from the lack of circulation. All he could do was watch his breath escape cracked and bleeding lips in a vaporous cloud. It was freezing. He tried wriggling free, but to no avail. They would come back for him...right?

What a way to go out...one day he could flip a tractor with a single hand and the next...the next he was powerless, strung up to a makeshift wooden cross, wondering if this was how he was going to go out. Until...from the corner of his eye he saw Jeremy.

"Help me," he whispered. 

"Never changes does it?" the other boy replied, walking closer. "I thought if I punished them it would stop. But it never stops."

Clark looked at the near stranger as he turned to walk away. 

"Wait, where are you going?"

"Homecoming dance, never made it to mine."

"Get me down, please."

"You're safer here," the young man vanished back into the sea of cornstalks from which he came. Whatever hope Clark had of being rescued went with him. 

Of course he didn't expect to see anyone else wandering through the green maze of corn, so when the beam of a flashlight sliced through the darkness, Clark wondered if he was hallucinating. 

"Clark?" 

That voice sounded so familiar. Despite the pain, he raised his slightly and was met with the sight of Lex Luthor in a black trench coat, holding a flashlight. "God..." the man muttered. He walked up to Clark and began to untie the rope that was burning pathways into his flesh. 

"Who did this to you?" 

"Doesn't matter," Clark muttered, his body now free of restraints careened forward. He fell gracelessly to the dirt and every inch of his body ached. He tried to push himself up off the ground, but his numbed arms wouldn't allow it. Lex rushed over and pulled his body upwards. 

"You need to see a doctor," Lex said, his voice laced with concern. 

"No...no doctor, I don't want to." Even without his powers, Clark couldn't risk going to the hospital and having his blood drawn. "I just want a hot shower," his teeth rattled in the frigid fall air. "Of course," Lex nodded. "Let me give you a ride."

Clark looked at Lex with concern. Lex's hand was still wrapped around Clark's bicep from helping him up. Despite the emotions etched into Clark's face, he wasn't saying anything.

"What's wrong?" 

"I just...was wondering if I could stay at your mansion tonight?" Clark asked meekly. "It's been a really long day, and if I go home, I'm going to have to explain everything to my parents..."

"Say no more," Lex gave a concerned smile, "of course you can stay with me tonight. Let's get you to the car."

The walk to Lex's Porsche seemed to take an eternity. Clark had never experienced pain before...period. And now it washed over him like a baptism, it threatened to drown him as it crashed against his body in waves. His eyes stung with tears of exhaustion, embarrassment and agony. One fell from his cheek and he quickly wiped it away. With a groan he lowered himself into Lex's car and Lex shut the door.

"Who did this to you?" Lex asked again, getting behind the wheel. 

"I already told you, it doesn't matter..."

"It was Whitney right?"

Clark's eyes flashed with guilt and recognition, as if he'd just been caught stealing a cookie before dinner. "How did you know?"

"I've seen you at the Talon," Lex admitted. "I see the way you look at Lana...and I've seen her jock boyfriend Whitney giving you the death stare."

"Oh," Clark sighed. 

"So was it just him? I mean, you're a strong guy," Lex admitted, letting his eyes wander over the swell of rising and falling muscles that made up Kent's upper body.

"There were six of them...or seven...I don't know, a lot."

"You should report them to the police Clark. They beat you up, you're bleeding all over, and you could've frozen to death out there."

"No..."

"How'd I know you'd say that," Lex replied, the silhouette of his face focused on the unlit road that would bring them to the stone mansion. "What they did to you is beyond some friendly high school hazing. Believe me, I know, I've been picked on a lot."

The honest admission caught Clark off guard. "You did?"

"I went through school bald...what do you think?" Lex's laughter filled the cabin of the small sports car and it brought a smile to Clark's dirt-caked face. 

Before he knew it, they were pulling into the expansive driveway of the mansion. It's stone facade towered over the car and it seemed to radiate energy...a sort of formidable aura...an inaccessibility and lavishness that mirrored it's only occupant.

Lex switched the ignition off and looked over at Clark. The two hadn't known each other long, but somehow they were instant friends. It wasn't because Clark saved his life that day on the bridge...Lex couldn't put his finger on what it was...Clark was just so...honest, pure, intelligent, strong and unique. He wasn't a soul-sucking, money hungry suit like everyone else he knew. He could've sued the shit out of him for hitting him on the bridge and had his family set for life...but he wouldn't even accept the truck Lex had bought him as a thank you.

"Let's get you cleaned up," the older man finally said before stepping out of the car. 

He helped Clark out of the car and steadied him as they walked towards the colossal doors. Light and warmth washed over Clark as they entered. Under the bright lights that bathed opulent hallways, Clark felt awkward and inadequate. "I'm sorry Lex," he said suddenly.

"For what?"

"For this. For bleeding all over your Porsche and probably ruining your night."

"Nonsense," Lex replied. "Things are replaceable...it's you that's important." 

Again, the raw admission piqued Clark's interest. It was surprising to see the powerful Lex Luthor...caring...selfless. 

"Everything alright?" Lex asked.

"Yeah, why?"

"Because you sure are staring at me an awful lot," Lex laughed once more. 

They came a room, the doors were closed until Lex reached out an elegant arm to swing them open. They walked inside. It smelled uniquely of...Lex.

"Is this your room?" Clark asked, surprised.

"Yes it is, why do you seem surprised?"

"Uh, I don't know...you have so many rooms here in the mansion..."

"...and I took you to mine," Lex cut him off. "Well, my shower's the one with all the good soaps," he smiled. "I'll clean out your wounds if you'd like," Lex offered, "and then you take a nice warm shower."

Clark didn't know what to say, so he simply nodded.


	2. Chapter 2

The bathroom was pristine; it was marble countertops and dark cherry cabinets and a shower big enough for four. The mansion had a way of being both inviting and off putting at the same time. Clark kept drawing parallels between it and Lex. Sometimes it felt warm and luxurious and other times it seemed overwhelming, complex, strange and powerful in a way that left an unpleasant feeling in his stomach.

His parents warned him not to be friends with Lex, hell, the whole town warned him not to be friends with Lex. But something about the suave billionaire was enthralling. He was reckless but controlled, his words rolled off his lips like honey dripping from the comb, his eyes could be as cold as steel or as warm as the fire that always seemed to burn in the hearth. 

Clark knew that people tried to befriend Lex because he had money, influence and power. But he enjoyed being around Lex because of his laugh, or the way he would sometimes let his guard down. Both of them were lonely, neither fit in, call it kindred spirits. That was it right? Clark rolled all of this around in his head as he watched Lex gather some first aid supplies.

"Have a seat," Lex waved at the toilet lid. Clark gingerly sat his body down with a wince. He had caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror when he first walked into the bathroom and the sight made him feel sick. 

Lex prepared several washcloths and started by wiping off the dirt that obscured the scrapes and bruises. It felt like such an intimate act, almost like he was being bathed, and it stirred some primal desire he had twisting beneath his stomach. 

That's exactly what scared him...it was the unspoken arousal that awoke in hearing Lex's voice, in smelling his cologne, in watching the way his delicate fingers gripped the cue stick when they played pool. And the worst part was...it wasn't just physical...Lex was older than him, he was intelligent, he was humorous, they loved the same movies and food and they could sit around just talking for hours. Clark was drawn to Lex's mind, to his complexity. 

A sharp shout of pain pulled Clark from his detailed self-analysis of his feelings regarding Lex. "You alright? You're awfully quiet," Lex looked at him. Sometimes Clark felt as though the older man could see right through him if the light was right and he squinted hard enough. 

The farmer's lips parted but no words came out. 

"They got you good," Lex said, his words barely concealing rage. Clark tilted his head down and saw the smattering of blood and bruises that littered his arms, his chest, his legs. His boxers were soaked in blood and little red rivers were streaming down his face and dripping onto his chest. 

"They're fucking cowards," Lex seethed through gritted teeth. "Only gutless assholes would gang up and beat you. If Whitney had a problem with you, he should have handled it like a man instead of letting his henchman do his dirty work."

"It makes you mad they hurt me?" Clark's words fell somewhere between a question and a statement, he already knew the answer but he wanted to see the reaction.

"Of course it makes me mad that they hurt you!" Lex was now kneeling on the floor in front of the young man, cleaning out a cut that was above Clark's knee. "You're my friend Clark, I don't want to see you get hurt."

"I don't have a whole lot of friends," Clark admitted. Lex looked up at him in surprise at the admission. 

"Neither do I Clark."

Lex expertly washed out Clark's wounds, he was meticulous, his touch delicate and measured. That knock of arousal was gaining strength quickly at the sight of Lex Luthor on his knees, his hands awash in Clark's bright red blood which was also smeared on his expensive shirt from untying him and helping him walk. "Tell me exactly what they did Clark."

"They beat me up, it's pretty obvious."

"You don't want to tell me more?"

Clark anxiously bit his lip, quickly realizing that was a bad idea when blood gushed from it. That's right...one of the jock's class rings had sliced it right open. Now blood was dribbling down his chin. Lex saw the waterfall of red and wiped at Clark's face.

"They uh...got me outside," he started. "Whitney took the first swing, and then...Jack took some punches..."

"Did you fight back?"

"Of course, but there were six of them...some were holding me back so I couldn't fight. One punch really got to me and I fell to the ground. They all started kicking..." Clark's voice cracked, threatening to betray the agony he felt. He took a shaky deep breath in. Lex had stopped his ministrations, his focus solely on Clark and the story he was telling. "The worst part was when they started taking off my clothes...it was humiliating."

The color had blanched from Lex's already pale face. His features were torn between despair and fury, his chest took in shallow quick breaths and his eyes were glued to his friend's. 

"I just want to forget about it Lex," Clark averted his gaze, flipping his hand over in his lap to reveal another cut on the pad of flesh beneath his thumb. Lex followed Clark's gaze to his hand. 

"I'm so sorry Clark," Lex whispered.

"That's exactly what I didn't want...pity."

"I don't pity you Clark, I just hate that this happened to you. I wish I would've been there."

Lex's hand hovered above Clark's for a moment, before the pads of his fingers landed on the rough skin in the palm of Kent's hand. The touch was but a whisper, a faint point of contact, but it sent fire through Clark's body. The young farm boy's tan hand was calloused from long days spent on laborious tasks, but the billionaire's hand was soft, smooth and pale like the ivory keys of the grand piano he so expertly played. And it the touch felt cool, like the man touching him was carved from a fine stone and breathed to life by an artist. 

Lex let his hand linger for a moment before getting to work on the cut, washing it out, dousing it in alcohol, which elicited a hiss from Clark. Lex licked his lip as he worked, probably not even conscious of the act. But it made Clark's eyes fall heavy on his face, Lex could feel the heat of the gaze so he looked up to meet it. He wondered why Clark always looked so tortured, he longed that make that look of anguish melt away. 

Finally Clark broke away from the look and much to his horror, he was now sporting a sizable erection. Inevitably, Lex noticed as well.

Kent hopped up and walked away from Lex, covering his face. "Sorry, I'm so sorry," he mumbled into his fingers. 

He could feel Lex's smile, even through closed eyes. "Clark, it's fine, you're fine, you're a young man and I was touching you...hell, when I was 18 I'd get an erection if the wind blew the wrong way," the older man chuckled. 

Clark let out a pent up sigh and walked back towards Lex. "It's not because I'm still a teenager," his voice was so low he almost didn't recognize it himself. With Lana he'd admired from afar, always too scared to make a move, always putting her up on an unreachable pedestal but Lex...

"It's because I...I can barely be around you without wanting you. I want to find out what your lips taste like, what your sheets feel like, it's killing me Lex."

He stood so close to his friend now, just a breath's width away, still battered and bruised, the anguish now rising to the surface like a dead body he could no longer keep buried. Lex's pupils had grown wide with shock.

"Clark...you've been through a lot today. I don't think you're in the best frame of mind to..."

"To what? Tell you the truth? I thought that's what you valued the most, above all else," a dark cloud of dejection began to form in the teen's features. 

Kent cradled his hand against Lex's face. "I may be a clumsy disaster, but I know what I'm saying, I know what I want."

Every fiber in Lex's body was telling him to turn about heel and run. Clark was fucking gorgeous and honest and vulnerable and far too good to be corrupted by him. Despite having the body of a god, he was a teenager for fuck's sake...legal...but still a teenager...and he was nearing his late twenties. It should be wrong, but those full lips looked so inviting and they were drawing closer.

"Clark," he whispered before his mouth was covered. They were the same height, and although younger, Clark was considerably stronger. His massive hands were exploring Lex's pulsing neck while his mouth went on an exploration mission of it's own. He tasted of blood and smelled like the last days of summer. His kiss was feverish with need and his body was backing Lex's up against the wall. He could feel the delicious friction of Clark's thinly veiled cock pressing into his trousers, against his own hardness.

"Clark," this time the word came out forcefully, like more of a warning. "I can't do this," Lex was slipping away. 

"Why not?" the question sounded so innocent.

"For a thousand reasons," Lex heaved to catch his breath. "I just...can't...we can talk about it more later...for now, just take a warm shower and I'll show you your room."

With that, the slender man that tasted of scotch and smelled of wood and spice disappeared and closed the door behind him. 

Rejection exploded in Kent's chest, his fists were shaking along with his stuttering breath. He threw a fist at the wall and cursed.

Lex leaned against the hallway wall, letting out a burdened sigh. This was too much. Clark was too young, even though he didn't seem young...sometimes he'd look at the teen and swear he could see a thousand other lifetimes behind his eyes. But Lex didn't do relationships and that's undoubtedly what Clark wanted. Fuck, he didn't even know Clark was gay. Was Clark gay? Shit, was he? His rock hard cock sure didn't protest at the events that unfolded. 

'I'm sick,' Lex thought to himself. 'I'm fucked up and I sleep with women without knowing their names and give them diamond earrings the next day as I disappear. I can't hurt Clark, I can't hurt our friendship, he's the only fucking friend I've ever had.'

Lex couldn't move off the wall, he didn't even notice when he heard the shower turn on...but he did notice the muffled sound of Clark saying his name.


End file.
